Fierce
by amortentia1992
Summary: Sometimes to defeat your enemies you have to become just like them. And sometimes to still overcome the villain you had to rely on every ounce of strength in your body. Or so Hermione would learn.


**Warnings: This Fic will contain dark themes and triggers including themes of extreme explicit sexual nature, scenes of rape, death of a major canon character, extreme use of violence, including torture. This is rated mature for a reason and intended for an adult audience alone. Please note that you read at your own risk.**

Disclaimer's: I do not Own harry Potter. Quotes are credited to William's Shakespeare's A midsummer's night dream.

A/N: my first Tomonie. All I can say is wow, this did not turn out how I had pictured and I am left wondering at the depths of my own depravity. But here it is. I hope you all enjoy, but please be sure to leave a review with your thoughts if you wish. Thank you!

* * *

 _ **"Oh, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!"**_

Pain. A dull, aching pain that occasionally would switch to a sharp stabbing sensation in the middle of her head is what awoke a sleeping Hermione Granger. She always woke up gradually. First becoming aware of her body, before she even opened her eyes or moved. Then she would stir, twist and stretch, yawn and then her eyes would open. She would then asses her environment, finding comfort in the readily recognizable features of her Gryffindor dorm room.

Only when she awoke today, it wasn't to these comforts. It was to the sensation of laying on a cold, hard surface, feeling like a freight train had hit her. When she opened her eyes she saw trees, trees everywhere, she was surrounded by bare and empty branches on a snow filled forest ground where she laid on a large rock.

Panicking she sat up and saw a man. She opened her mouth to scream but couldn't. Where was she? She knew she had gone to bed in her dorm the night before, how had she ended up outside? And who was this man? Had he silenced her?

"Are you okay Miss?" came the voice from where it stood above her. It was a soft spoken voice, slightly cold and distant, but seemingly more curious and concerned than anything else. Hermione gulped, and tried to speak again but still couldn't. So she shook her head.

The man kneeled down beside her and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, before lifting her up to her feet. With the sudden warmth she finally calmed enough to speak.

"Where am I?" She questioned.

"You don't know?" The man inquired, answering her question with one of his own.

"No, I don't know. I fell asleep in the Gryffindor Tower last night and now here I am."

"You are in the forbidden forest. But you are no Gryffindor. I would recognize you as a student at Hogwarts, and I don't." the man said, looking at her with cold, unforgiving and suspicious eyes.

"I assure you, I am a Gryffindor. I'm in my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the year 1997."

"Well therein lies the problem. You may be a Gryffindor after all, but you are no longer in 1997. Today is December 22, 1943."

"1943?" the witch cried out in shock, "How is that even possible?"

"I cannot rightly say. But I'd best be taking you to see the headmaster. I'm Tom by the way. Tom Riddle. The Head Boy." The man finally introduced himself. Hermione felt her blood run cold. This was not good, not good at all.

Instinctively she drew out her wand and pointed it at him. The man that would become Lord Voldemort looked mildly surprised for a moment and drew his quickly to defend himself. Hermione threw the first hex his way which he easily blocked.

"You dare to throw a hex at me?" he hissed right before he threw back a nasty jinx of his own. She was grateful it wasn't an unforgivable, and dodged out of its path before it hit. They danced like this throwing hexes and blocking and moving aside for what felt like hours but was likely only minutes. Only when he threw a curse she didn't recognize in her path did she get distracted, which was obviously his tactic. Distract her and then his next curse came quickly after and wasn't so easily avoidable, she fell back to the ground, gasping for air finding herself unable to breathe.

He disarmed her a moment later before he muttered a low finite in her direction.

"Who are you?" He demanded to know, as he stood over her, expression murderous.

"My name is Hermione Granger. I am a muggleborn witch and you are Lord Voldemort, my enemy." She growled out at him. She was beyond livid with him. Every ounce of hatred, every curse his deatheaters tossed at her and every time she was called a mudblood raced through her head into her rage and a moment later she spat at his feet.

"I see my reputation precedes me," he laughed darkly. Then to her shock, he hauled her to her feet. "You would make a formidable enemy I'm sure Miss. Granger. But I think you would make an excellent ally."

"I'll never ally with you, you monster." She yelled.

"We'll see," he replied simply and tightened his grip on her arm. "For now, we are going to go get you warmed up in the castle and see Headmaster Dippet." She tried to wrench free from his grasp but couldn't. "That is not a request." He hissed a moment later, and dragged her closer to him. She struggled to keep up with his pace as he strode hastily towards the castle.

Outside the door of the Headmaster's office, Voldemort loosened his tight hold on her arm, not letting go, but no longer bruising. He was silent as he waited for the doorway to open. This allowed Hermione the time to process her racing thoughts.

She didn't know how or why she ended up so far in the past. The three of them, Harry, Ron and her that is, had just discovered the existence of the many Horocruxs Voldemort had created. Harry was off hunting them with Headmaster Dumbledore.

Dumbledore. She needed to find Dumbledore and she needed to find him fast. If she could explain who she was, and where she came from she was confident the wizard would assist her. But that meant she would have to escape Tom first. And that wasn't something he was going to make easy.

The door opened and she was pushed through the doorway. There were stairs before her and behind her she could feel him, so close that his breath fell on her neck. He would block her escape, and recognizing a hopeless situation when she saw one, Hermione begrudgingly trudged upwards.

"Tom! What is the meaning of this?" Exclaimed a bewildered and exhausted looking wizard. Only then did she take into account the early morning hours.

"I was on patrol late last night and found I couldn't sleep, so I was walking on the grounds. I heard something in the forest and went to search when I found this girl here. She is a witch sir, but I believe she is from the future." The dark, and charismatic boy behind her explained.

"Oh Dear. Well I do suppose that is a reason to come calling at dawn. Tell me, my girl, how you got here." The Headmaster requested of her.

"I don't know. I honestly just went to bed last night in my dorm in 1997. When I woke I was laying on the ground in the forest, and he was standing over me."

"A student then?"

"Yes. Gryffindor. Sixth year."

"I see. Well I have no explanation as to how you arrived here. However, I know that until we can send you back, that we have to come up with an explanation. You my dear, what did you say your name was?"

"Hermione, sir. Hermione Granger."

"Hermione. Very well. You are my niece, originally privately tutored. However, you were recently orphaned and therefore sent into my care, and I just transferred you here."

Hermione thought through what she knew of this wizard, which wasn't much.

"How does she explain her parents, Headmaster?" Tom questioned for her.

"Her mother is my sister. We were estranged. She didn't even know she had an uncle until she arrived her last night. Her mother's name was Esmeralda Marie Dippet. She had Hermione out of wedlock and therefore was disowned by my father and sent away to live in the north. Her mother died of Dragon Pox."

"Very well, Headmaster. I appreciate your assistance." Hermione finally said.

"Indeed. Now we just need to sort you. Let me go find the hat." Dippet said politely.

"Sort me sir, but I'm a Gryffindor."

"The hat will have to see about that. Oh, and instead of sixth year, I'll be placing you in seventh. If anyone were to go digging, they would find that my sister was indeed disowned seventeen years ago. If you were a sixth year it would raise suspicions. Nobody can know who you really are."

The Headmaster placed the hat on her head and she sighed.

"I see that I have sorted you before miss. A Gryffindor. Hmmm. You are brave without a doubt, but it is masked under your intelligence. You find courage through knowledge. You are also cunning and cautious and I see that you hold a grudge. You are calculating, quick to act but willing to play the long game as well, and you are ambitious. If you have a goal you meet it, no matter the cost, and you crave to be accepted. It had better be... Slytherin!"

Hermione sat gaping and noticed the smirk that Riddle shot her way. Fuck.

"Well, that is interesting. A Gryffindor you said. It seems the hat here had other ideas. Term is due to begin in ten days. Most of the school cleared out for the Holidays this afternoon. Tom will escort you back to the dorms for today and tomorrow you can meet me to discuss your schedule."

"Yes sir." She said. Riddle offered her his arm but she brushed past him. So he grabbed her arm instead.

"This way, Miss. Granger. I will see you safely to the dungeons." He teased and smirked.

Silence once again ensued the pair as they walked. Hermione found herself being led by the arm by a wizard who as determined to keep her close.

When they entered into the Slytherin common room, Tom Riddle led the girl to her room. It was the empty one directly next to his, he was curious about her. A witch, a seemingly powerful one, who not only knew him but who he wanted to be. She fought him, and he had no doubt in his mind that she would kill him given the chance, she saw him as an enemy. But he saw potential. He saw an opportunity to learn, to discover the unknown to better his plans. He saw raw power that he could harness. He saw brilliance and defiance, and he saw darkness. He knew this witch would do anything to end him.

But if he could teach her, change her, possess her, he knew she could be so powerful so useful to him. Tom Riddle saw her as his match. He was attracted to her power, amused by her defiance, compelled by her beauty. And since he first found her lying in the snow, he was hell-bent on making her his.

So before she could open the door and turn in for the night, he pushed her back into the wall and pinned her there between his arms, pressing his body against hers.

"I think Hermione," he drawled out her name, "that fate has brought you here, as a present for me. I'm going to make you mine."

"I'm not yours and there is no such thing as fate you pompous, insecure, egocentric, megalomaniac!" Hermione spat at him. He laughed.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure, if I were you little witch. I wouldn't be so sure." And then he kissed her. He hadn't ever kissed anyone before. Never desired to, no woman meant anything to him, it was only - always - power. Until he saw her.

Hermione knew she should fight him, knew that she couldn't fail in her new self-assigned suicide mission. But she had never been kissed like this. No man had ever pressed their lips to hers and coaxed and teased the way this man did. She found that in that instant, no thought was necessary. She opened to him, and Tom took advantage and he plundered her mouth.

Just as quickly as he came, he ended the kiss and he let her go.

"Get some rest little witch. I'll collect you this afternoon." He said and disappeared into his room. She was going to end him, here in this era before he could become the man she feared in 1997. Even if it meant she wouldn't be going back. She would kill Tom Riddle, even if it meant she became as bad as he.

* * *

As Tom entered his own private dorm, he had an awful strain in his trousers. He knew what it was of course and he had had them before he was still seventeen and a boy. But he had never before been aroused by a girl, only by the thought of being all powerful, only by the thought of killing and torturing his way to greatness.

The boy sank to his bed and unzipped his pants releasing his well endowed cock. He hissed as he freed it and then proceeded to stroke it's hard length thinking about the things he would do with Hermione.

For Salazar's sake he had only known the witch for two hours and in that time she had tried to curse him, had sworn at him, had tried his patience and had proven beyond the doubt that she was his equal, no, that she would be.

He wanted to hurt her, no one disobeyed or disrespected him and got away with it. But at the same time as he wanted to crucio her until she begged him to stop and swore fealty to him, he wanted to possess every inch of her. He already laid claim to her mouth, and oh, what he would do to that mouth the next time she talked back to him...

As his thoughts of bending her over his bed and spanking her and then fucking her were at the forefront of his mind, Tom Riddle, spilled his seed into his hand.

She would be his.

* * *

 _ **"She was a vixen when she went to school"**_

Weeks passed, and Hermione found herself at a loss. Those ten days alone in a dorm with Riddle were unnerving. He hadn't made a move to kiss her again, though he hadn't stopped looking at her like he couldn't wait to.

He never took his eyes off of her, in the mornings they drank tea, and then he escorted her to breakfast. While she read all of the books she could to stay ahead in the library, she could feel him watching her over his own book. If she tried to wander off on her own she could always sense him nearby. He didn't trust her, and she didn't trust him.

He had naturally returned her wand to her. But she hadn't attempted to use it against him again. He was too observant for her to succeed in a sneak attack.

Every day he tried to get her to talk to him, to tell him of her world. She refused to do it. And then school began again and she was swept into the whirlwind of activity. Classes were tough, the snakes were suspicious and unwelcoming, and Riddle was always underfoot.

So it came as no surprise to her, nearing the end of January 1944, when the wizard in question cornered her one night walking back from the library.

"I happen to find that I enjoyed dueling with you, Hermione." Tom smirked at her.

"I'm sure you would. I'm quite skilled, oh and there is the small fact that I actually was trying to kill you." She hissed at him like any good Slytherin.

"Exactly, my thoughts. You don't hold back." He insisted.

"Because I want you dead. You are my enemy, you have tried to kill me and I will succeed one day in watching you die. I hate you." She spat, growing tired of sparring with him. She grew furious when he only stared at her with his the cat that ate the cannery grin.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" The infuriating man asked for the umpteenth time.

"Get it through your thick skull Riddle. I will never help you."

"See, you ought not to say things that are untrue. I will get my answers."

"Avis." Hermione summoned her classic birds. Then wordlessly cast the oppungo jinx and sent them off to attack him. Of course the charm was disappointingly enough finited by Riddle before any harm could be done, the distraction did allow Hermione to take off down the Hallway.

A moment later she was slammed into a stone wall and her head was jerked up to meet his gaze due to his hand painfully tangling in her hair.

He didn't speak, he made no further movement of retaliation, but his eyes told her of his rage. She whimpered in pain, but matched his gaze. She curled her lip at him.

"Come with me." He ordered finally.

"I won't" she rebutted. He seized hold of her hand and proceeded to drag her down the hall to the room of requirement.

The simple wooden door appeared and he shoved her inside the room. Assembled inside were at least 20 boys from her house dressed in long black robes. Riddle had brought her to one of his revels.

"My Lord, you shouldn't have." Abraxas Malfoy mocked upon her entrance. He was met with a levicorpus jinx and immediately apologized.

"Hermione, meet my knights, knights meet my lady, and therefore yours." Tom announced abruptly.

Hermione had feared sooner or later the monster would bring her to one of these. He wouldn't stop pestering her, he seemed hell bent on teaching her the dark arts, and was always so close by her that she wondered what he wanted with her. He went to a lot of trouble for just information, which besides could be simply tortured out of her. And now he called her his lady. That in and of itself was more frightening to her than facing him in all his snake skinned glory insanity.

"Are you retarded? I'm not your fucking anything" she growled at him.

"Tsk tsk, my dear. Greet your knights." Tom replied shortly and she noticed that the assembled boys were bowed low before her.

Still she fought giving him the satisfaction of obedience.

"Well. I had certainly hoped that it would not come to this. But I see no alternative. Burke bring the girl" ordered Tom in his most authoritative voice as he scolded her.

A moment later Hermione's only friend in this time, a little Ravenclaw in her fourth year named Anya was dragged to the front of the room. Hermione blanched.

"Greet your knights Hermione." Tom whispered in her ear.

"No." She said. Finding courage in the face of fear.

A high pitched scream came from Anya as Burke inflicted the cruciatus upon her.

The sound broke Hermione. "Stop it." She commanded of the wizard.

"I'm sorry, but I can only take orders from my Lord or my lady." Commented Burke cruelly. He had yet to lift the torture curse from the girl. Hermione turned her eyes to Riddle. He started at her blankly. Then he repeated himself.

"Acknowledged your knights Hermione. Then it will stop."

Anya's sobbing was ultimately what sprung Hermione into action.

"Good evening my knights." She cried out horsley her own eyes watering.

"Good girl." Tom crooned. "Now tell Burke what to do."

"Knight I command you to stop the curse." Hermione uttered. At once he did so.

"As you wish my lady."

Tom summoned a chair. He looked at her an nodded to it and Hermione sank into it.

"Well done. Now I need you to do something for me." He said to her. Hermione wanted so badly to tell him where he could shove it, but one look at the whimpering younger witch on the stone floor, was enough to make her think twice. She repeated her mantra over and over to herself. Keep calm and kill Tom Riddle. Keep calm, and kill Tom Riddle.

"I need for you to show your knights what happens when they disobey." Tom finished.

Hermione shot her darker more amber coloured eyes to Tom's dark blue eyes. Though in this light they looked black.

"But he did not disobey." She protested. Tom quirked an eyebrow at her. Hermione was going to fight this, tooth and nail. She was not going to lose herself. She was not going to give up her mission. But then she reminded herself that she would end him. That she would succeed no matter the cost. She just wasn't ready to give up her soul.

"Didn't he. You told him to stop and he didn't, he expressed he only took orders from his lord or his lady, and I introduced you upon your arrival as their lady." Tom argued. Hermione thought fleetingly that he would have made a superb lawyer. Very argumentative indeed.

"I had not yet allowed myself to become their lady." She countered. She saw amusement and then irritation flash on his face.

"Hermione you must see that I am still their Lord. What I tell them is law, and I told them you are my lady. It does not matter what you said to me about it, to them you were my lady the moment I introduced you as such. As my lady they must respect and obey you as well. You are my equal."

Hermione shuddered at his words. She didn't want to be his equal. "I won't do it." She expressed.

"I am so disappointed. Burke, begin." Tom replied.

"Imperio." The tall, strawberry blonde wizard said and pointed his wand at Anya. Her whimpering ceased immediately. Hermione watched in silent horror. "Anya my dear. I want you to get on your knees, unzip my trousers and suck my cock." He said. Hermione jumped to her feet.

"No." She shouted, but was met with chuckling from the assembled wizard's. Tom grabbed her shoulders and reseated her on the chair.

Anya rose up to do as instructed. The moment Burke's cock sprung free, Hermione was issuing orders.

"Burke I command you to desist at once." He didn't listen to her. Her commands were met on deaf ears and she was forced to watch as the little fourteen year old girl sucked the swollen member into her mouth.

Minutes passed by. Burke was groaning and rolling his hips thrusting ito the witch's mouth, effectively deep throating the girl.

"Riddle." Hermione eventually croaked her sobs making her voice hoarse.

"You know what you have to do." Was his reply. And Hermione did know. She couldn't subject Anya to anymore of this humiliation. She raised her wand and pointed it at the wizard who was on the edge of his climax. She watched and waited a moment until she knew he was just about to come and then she said it.

"Crucio" the wizard dropped. And his spell over Anya ended the minute Hermione cast the unforgivable. Anya let go of Burke's penis and gagged and sobbed.

"Anya. Come here. It's okay." She comforted the other witch and held her once she was able to make her way up to Hermione.

"That's enough Hermione." Tom said after a minute passed of keeping Burke incapacitated.

"I really don't think that it is." She muttered. She let it go on longer.

"Hermione" Tom warned, but she ignored him and clutched Anya, tighter to her.

"My lady please." Burke cried out, begging. She ended the curse. "Fucking Neanderthal." She muttered. She didn't miss Tom's bubbling anger with her disobedience or what she assumed was the tense expectation of the assembled knights. She simply pretended she didn't.

"Obliviate." She muttered to Anya and wiped the girls memory of what had transpired. When Anya awoke all she would remember was studying with Hermione until late in the Library and then going back to her dorm.

When she was done, Tom hauled her up from the wooden chair by he hair, painfully so.

"Thank you knights. You are dismissed. Malfoy take the girl back to her dorm." He ordered before dragging Hermione out of the room and holding her arm and hair captive until they reached his dorm room and he pushed her inside.

Hermione's own fury matched his but she said nothing.

"You will never disobey me again." He threatened.

"Or what? Fuck you Riddle " she retorted.

Tom pulled her over to his bed and bent her over it. Then he lifted her skirt. Before she had time to act he was slapping his hand over the exposed cheeks.

Eighteen, _eighteen_ strikes later, he was satisfied that her ass was red enough.

"You may be my lady, Hermione, but I am your lord. You may outrank my knights, and you may not bare the mark of servitude that they do, but you will bow to my command." He said.

"Never! You are a mother fucking monster. I won't obey you, ever..." She promised. She didn't care if he stuck her again.

"I am your Lord Hermione. You will do as I say or people you care for will get hurt. Did I not prove that to you today?" He muttered darkly.

"Fuck you" she spat challenging him. She was still bent over his bedpost pinned there by his legs.

"As you wish." He allowed and moments later had thrust all the way inside her. She had been a virgin and wholly unprepared for this action. She screamed at the impact.

Tom pulled out and pushed in again driving home his point. Then he withdrew completely. And stepped away from her.

"Get up and kiss me goodnight." Tom ordered before adding "and don't test me witch, you won't like what happens if you do.

Hermione gingerly straightened herself. She crossed the room to where he stood and kissed him hastily, when he tried to deepen the kiss she pulled away and fled the room.

When she made it to her own bed she curled herself into a ball and wept. Hours later when she had cried herself dry she plotted how she would kill Tom Riddle. She would have to beat him at his own game. That much was inevitable.

* * *

Tom couldn't sleep that night. He was angry with himself, he was angry with her, but some part of him was proud. She had done it, played into the dark arts. She had done so well. He didn't mind that it was only to protect the girl. But then she had kept the curse longer than he had thought she would. That in and of itself only swelled his pride. What angered him was her disobedience. He gave her an order in front of his knights and she hadn't followed it. She defied him as his knights bore witness to a witch grabbing hold of his balls so to speak. He would not tolerate public disrespect.

So he had to punish her. She was far above that of the knights and so he couldn't use the torture curse on her. He settled instead for a good, old fashioned hiding. It would remind her of her place, and could be done privately, to save her being on display, but leave enough evidence that she had in fact been punished come morning.

She only made it worse on herself opening that big mouth of hers. But he was so ashamed that he had forced himself on her. The minute he breached her wall and felt it break he felt guilt in his actions, not that he would be remorseful, he was punishing her after all, but he had not intended to behave so rashly and hadn't wanted their first time to be like that. So he only thrust in once more to drive his point home, but denied himself the pleasure she brought him.

He sat in his own bed contemplating how he would interact with her from here. He had no doubt the witch was plotting his demise. He just had to show her that being submissive to him would bring her so much more pleasant experiences than fighting him would.

* * *

 _ **"And though she be but little, she is fierce."**_

Hermione had gotten good at playing him, she thought. Tom would disagree. He knew exactly what she was thinking, what she was planning and he drew her close, feigning his trust and admiration of her, all while contemplating exactly how he would truly convert her. He easily saw through her disguised interest and knew that she was faking it. He knew that she was only dabbling in the dark arts, attending his revels, ruling by his side and sleeping in his bed to make him believe that he had won. He let her think that he did, giving her small assurances that he did, but not revealing too much so that she could use it against him.

Tom Riddle would make her his queen. She would rule by his side, and while she might always hate him, she would also love him in time. Or she would both love and hate him in equal measure. Of that he was sure.

Hermione spent the months becoming darker, digging deeper into dark curses and spells, and using them on others. She spent her nights getting closer to him in bed, something that would repulse her, but he was an exceedingly good lover, and Hermione actually found she enjoyed coupling with him. At least she did if he wasn't forcing himself on her. She was sore for days after that first time. Her bum was red and bore the marks of his punishment for a week, she couldn't sit the whole next day comfortably, and she was tender inside from the fact that he had shoved himself as far as he could without her being prepared or ready for him. In fact she had been bone dry and it had hurt, blood in her knickers the next day evidence of her assault.

But since then he hadn't so much as pulled a strand of her hair. Granted she didn't fight him as much, she followed his requests when they were issued, she wouldn't call it being obedient, because she had every intention of betraying him at some point.

"Tom how many horocrux's have you made?" she questioned lazily as he spooned her that night. He stilled. Hermione knew that at this point he had created at least 1, he was seventeen and he was such an age when he created the diary, so she knew of that one. But were there others.

"Why do you want to know?" He inquired warily.

"I just do." She stated.

"I have two." He allowed, but he wouldn't budge on giving her any more information.

"May I see them?"

"No." He kissed her shoulder. "You are not yet ready for such things, Hermione."

"As you wish," she replied, but mentally cursed herself, because now she had given him a hint of her plan, and had no hope of getting anywhere close to destroying them.

"Tell me how you know about the Horocrux's" he demanded. He hadn't told anybody about them yet, and he had never planned to so he wondered how in the future it was such common knowledge.

"I'm from the future." She retorted sarcastically. He bit into her shoulder harshly. "Ouch," she seethed.

"Tell me." He commanded again, kissing the spot her had just abused.

"I was destroying them in the future. I knew about them because my friend had a mental connection to you, you cursed him as a baby because he was the one who could destroy you, but he survived the killing curse. You left him with a scar and a piece of your soul, thereby connecting him to you. I suppose he is a horocrux himself." She informed.

"You said them. How many did I create?"

"Six. That we know of, but if I'm right about Harry, then seven."

"Seven." He remarked in awe. Tom was flabbergasted. Seven was a lot and he wondered at his sanity in the future. He felt incomplete with the first one he had created, his diary. With the second he could feel the missing chunks of his soul. He couldn't imagine the inevitable emptiness that he would experience with seven in the future. But then again, if he created seven horocrux's in the future and only one was enough to create immortality he must be a very powerful wizard. The thought made him hard.

"You are insatiable." She said when she felt his erection poking her in the back.

"Power is an incredibly arousing thought." He replied as it was obvious.

"I wouldn't know." Hermione replied even as he flipped her over, and positioned himself above her.

"I could show you." He hissed as he drove into her hard and fast, and then leaned into kiss her.

"I'm going to kill you Tom." She said.

"No. You won't. You can't."

* * *

Days passed after that and Hermione found the diary hidden in his room. She used fiendfyre to destroy it. It was nasty and dark, and made her feel dirty as it died. But that was nothing compared to the rage she faced that night when Tom saw the evidence of her destruction.

"What did you do Hermione?" He voiced icily.

"I told you. I am going to see you die. I'm going to end you with my own two hands. If you doubted me then that is your problem." She yelled at him. His fist clenched in her hair and he dragged her against him.

"I've already told you, that when it comes to it, you won't do it. Hate me all you want, witch, just enough of you has warmed up to me to make you fail." He grumbled.

"Prove it." She said. He did.

A flick of Tom's wand had her hands bound behind her back. He leaned her over the edge of his bed and her face was pressed into the mattress, to the point she was sure she would suffocate. Another flick of his wand and she was naked.

Hermione flinched when she heard the buckle of his belt being undone. She didn't have time to brace herself before the first lash hit her backside. She screamed out, but the sound was muffled by the mattress. He continued his brutalization. She lost count after twenty. It went well past that number though, of that's she was sure.

He was talking to her and she wasn't listening. She caught bits and pieces.

"Who do you belong to? Who do you obey?" Tom eventually hissed. He struck her again.

"You. You are." She sobbed. The belt dropped from his hands.

"Good girl." He breathed and unbound her hands. He watched as the witch recoiled from his touch and pressed herself deeper into the mattress. She slumped against the bed, in pain, and afraid of him. Good. She should be afraid of him. Maybe this would teach her not to continuously betray him.

It's not that Tom enjoyed hurting her, he didn't. But he demanded her respect, if a punishment was the only way he received it then so be it. This time he had given her 55 lashings. Her backside was completely red and already darkening in spots. There would be bruising.

He muttered soft nothings in her ear as he cradled her against him, disallowing her from smothering herself to death. He pulled his bedsheet over them and held her to his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. He held her that way until she eventually fell asleep.

He didn't know what he was going to do with her. The witch was hell bent on betraying him. She wanted him dead, and her actions that day proved it. He didn't want to kill her, but he would if he had to. He would have to see if she learned her place after this latest punishment. He laid her head onto the pillow, and brushed her hair out of her face.

He sincerely hoped that she would finally take her place at his side.

* * *

They would be graduating soon. Hermione thought the next morning as she struggled to rise from the bed. His hands were draped over her, and sheets were pulled so tight against her, it was like a cocoon. She wouldn't easily extract herself from the bed. Not without waking him. And she didn't feel like talking with the accursed man.

This was the second time he had misused her body. He was rough, and cruel when he was angry. Normally the anger was directed at his followers he seemed more amused by her moods as he called them. But when his rage was fueled by her, she almost wished he would crucio her, it would be better than him manhandling her the way he did.

He stirred and she feigned sleep.

"I know your awake love." He chuckled and kissed her head. She ignored him. He growled. "Hermione."

"Tom." She clipped.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked after her wellbeing. She opened her eyes to glare at him pointedly.

"How the fuck you think I feel?" She said and reached for her wand. "You tell me, unless you want me to show you." She hissed at him.

"Would it make you feel better love?" he played into her threat.

"No! It would just make me exceedingly happy to see you suffer, you mother fucking monster!" she shouted. It drew the attention of the rest of the Slytherin seventh years and they could hear concerned chatting outside their door before Rosier burst through.

"My lord, forgive me for interrupting, but…." Evan Rosier was cut off by the sight of Hermione, now straddling Tom her wand pointed in his face. Tom shot a seething glare in his direction.

"Get out!" he ordered. Evan didn't hesitate to obey. To Hermione Tom said. "Well love if it will make you happy, then by all means."

"Avada Kedavra." She cursed. He quirked an eyebrow as the green jet of light bounced off him like an invisible shield and towards her. He casted a quick protego shield over her to protect her.

"You know you can't kill me love. First of all it won't work because I can't be killed. Secondly, you don't have enough will to pull it off. Though I do love to see you try."

"Fuck you. Crucio!" this time the curse she sent his way did work. Since it wouldn't kill him he wasn't spared the pain. She lifted the curse moments later. He smiled at her.

"Better now?" He asked. She narrowed her eyes at him. Considering her position on top of him, and the arousing sight she made when using such dark magic, Tom was hard and ready for her. "Not better then. Hmmm, let's see what I can do about that."

He reached his hand down to her core and stroked his finger there. She was wet, drenched really.

"Don't touch me." She spat.

"But love, I think your body has another idea." He said and stroked her again. He was rewarded by her soft moan. "Hurting me does turn you on doesn't it." He commented. She only nodded, so he inserted his finger and stroked his thumb across her clit. "I know it does. Come here." He said, and Hermione was lost to his ministrations. The pleasure building up in her core and the aftershocks of using such a powerful curse, and meaning it, had her on a high that blocked out everything else, including the searing pain on her arse from his belt last night.

He kissed her and she was done for. His finger was replaced by his cock thrusting deep in her and she was riding him.

When the found their climax it was together.

"I hate you." She said when her breathing evened once again.

"No you don't." he replied. It was the same thing every time. She came around him, screaming his name, moaning for his touch, and then when he finally gave her pleasure she always told him she hated him. He knew that she didn't. Not really.

"I do hate you." She insisted. And she removed herself from the bed with an indrawn breath and a wince.

"Love please be careful, you are hurt."

"And who is the one that hurt me," she growled at him and slammed the door to his bathroom.

The ring, Hermione thought. The ring was the other horocrux. He had murdered his father the winter before, she recalled from her conversations with harry and Ron. It made logical sense that the ring would be the horocrux he created with the death of Mr. Riddle.

She smirked to herself. Now all that was left to do was find and destroy the ring. Then she would be able to send the bastard to hell.

The only problem was, Tom wasn't stupid and he didn't keep the ring at school. And he certainly wouldn't give her information on it's whereabouts. Especially since she destroyed his other horocrux.

She had just dropped herself into the scalding hot water which stung against the welts from the night before, when Tom opened the door and entered. She made a sharp sound of pain, involuntarily, and was annoyed when Tom heard.

"Come here." He said.

"Tom. I just sat down." She protested.

"You shouldn't be in hot water in your state." He insisted and went so far as to lean over the edge of the tub and grasp her shoulders. "Now come here, love."

"Fine." She groaned in frustration but stood up none the less. She was grateful he was holding her shoulder because the sudden pain to her arse when she did so made her knees buckle and without it, she would have fallen back down.

"I've got you Hermione. My Hermione. I'll take care of this." He said and cradled her to his chest, carrying her back to his bed. "Lay on your tummy." He ordered and she did, only because there was no way she was letting her bum hit those sheets.

Tom fumbled in his drawer for something. "I have a salve for those. It will sting a little when I put it one, love, but you will feel better." He explained.

"Why do you care?" she seethed.

"Because you are mine. I care for you more than I care for anything else. And besides that I care for what is mine. You remember who you said you belong to last night."

"Yes, of course, however could I forget," she said sarcastically and then whined when he first spread some of the salve on. _Sting a little, a little,_ she thought angrily that damn well felt like somebody was burning her flesh off. Smelled like it to.

"Shhhhh. I know. It will be over in a minute." He crooned in her ear. "Your lucky it's a Saturday. You can rest after this."

He rubbed the salve into her buttocks for a good five minutes, it only burned for two and then she began to feel numb. When he was finished he kisses her forehead. "Sleep, Hermione."

She did sleep. She was so tired. Tom watched her sleep awhile and then left to attend to the business at hand. She had destroyed one horocrux already. He needed to make another, quickly before she could make good on her promise.

* * *

Hermione woke up awhile later cold. She regained her wits and dressed herself, and went in search of Tom.

"My lady." Burke's voice stopped her on her quest.

"Yes knight." She sneered.

"My lord requests that you join him in the tearoom."

"Very well, thank you Burke. You are dismissed."

"I am to escort you, My Lady." He replied.

"No. You will stay here or I will make you stay here."

"He gives far too long of a leash." He muttered and moved to grab her arm.

"Crucio," Hermione cried and the spell hit him.

"Hermione." Tom called out from the doorway of the common room. She looked up at him and sighed lifting the curse. Tom nodded, "I was just coming to check what was taking you so long love."

"Hmmm, I was looking for you." She hummed.

"Indeed."

"How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough." He quipped and extended his hand, crooking his finger. She crossed the room to stand by him. He leaned in and pecked her on the lips. "Did Burke insult you?"

"He pissed me off." She said. Though truthfully, he did kind of insult her. She was a person not a dog, and she didn't need to be put on a leash.

Tom made a sound low in his throat that she couldn't quite distinguish. A moment later Burke was writhing in agony on the ground again. Tom hadn't even spoke. Hermione shuddered.

* * *

Months passed, graduation came and went, and Tom claimed her as his wife so that he could legally, keep her by his side.

Six months into the marriage, she found the third Horocrux he had created. Ironically, Tom had given her the ring as her wedding band. She had destroyed in the next day. And of course he punished her for it.

She had been called to Hogwarts School one night to help Anya who was having memory problems. The witch was in the hospital wing so Hermione snuck in and helped her to forget the memories that were seeping through. When she was done, she had the opportunity to find the diadem. And destroyed it.

Tom was waiting for her when she got back to his father's house. By the look on his face he already knew.

"Ready to duel honey?" She chortled in a mocking tone.

"You have destroyed my last Horocrux woman!" Tom exclaimed, enraged. He was going to kill her. Hermione would have to die, because punishing her wasn't enough to stop her from destroying his soul.

"Oh Tom, I do know that." He sent a cutting curse that way, she blocked it, and she sent it back his way. He stepped out of its path.

What began with a dance the moment she heard his name all those months ago in the forest, became a dance once again.

"You won't be able to do it Hermione," he taunted.

"If hate is strong enough one can find them capable of the impossible."

"You love me." Tom responded.

"I do." She confessed, "But I hate you to. More perhaps."

"Mrs. Riddle," he began to chant her surname reminding Hermione what she had become to get to this point. And that was when she saw his weakness. It all came down to a name.

"Mrs. Riddle." She agreed. The look of shock on his face was the only hesitation she needed to act. "Avada Kedavra, Bitch." She hissed with every ounce of meaning she could muster. The green light hit him square in his chest and as it collided with him their eyes met.

"My love." He mouthed. She smiled at him darkly. He crumpled to the floor dead. She kneeled by his side when he dropped and she took the knife from her pocket. As the door burst open she plunged the blade directly into her beating heart. She let her blood wash over Tom's body as she slumped over him, dying herself. Her last thought was that Tom was wrong, she had been able to kill him, because she was fierce.

* * *

Hermione woke up with a start, in was the middle of the night and she surveyed her whereabouts. Gryffindor Tower, her dorm room, in a bed beside a sleeping Ginny.

Had it all really been just a dream? It had felt so real. And even now she felt the familiar pang of bittersweet relief that he was dead, she had killed him, but then she loved him, and she wanted to be dead alongside of him. If it was a dream then she hadn't really ended him. He was still out there. She gasped and the sound woke the sleeping redhead.

"'Mione what's wrong?" the witch sleepily asked.

"I just had the strangest dream. I dreamt I went back to 1944 and defeated Voldemort." Hermione explained her dream. The girl gave her a strange expression.

"Who is Voldemort?" came the girl's question.

"Voldemort, you know the dark lord, killer of Harry's parents."

"I think your Delirious. Since when are you on a first name basis with Potter and his parents are very much alive last I checked."

 _Oh, fuck,_ Hermione somberly thought.


End file.
